Call of the Abyss [Book 2 Complete]

Julia watched as Trixy zipped down into the water far below, with scarcely a ripple to mark her passing. She had the curious thought that Trixy must look like some strange, furry eel beneath the surface, but she shook such idle thoughts away.

She was just inside the marsh border, atop a tree in the outermost ring of marsh trees. There was a gap of three to five journeys making up the border between the marsh and the swamp, and it was occupied exclusively by waterlogged grasses.

They were deceptive, as some could be the kind of tall grass one might find on plains, rising only up to one's waist, while other spots might look like the same grass but be several stretches tall—belying both its true height and the depths it hid beneath.

Julia would not be traveling through the water, or even atop it, of course.

She dispersed her body to a thin mist and rose into the air, riding the currents toward the demarcation in the water. The wind became stronger between the swamp and marsh for reasons she wasn't sure of.

She hadn't read too much about the causes of weather, so she couldn't be sure if it was due to this part of the land receiving more direct sunlight (without trees to block it) and creating warm updrafts, or perhaps that there were no trees to impede the wind, so it simply blew through unobstructed.

Regardless, her drifting mist form traveled much faster out here than the marsh interior.

She floated toward the westernmost camp, which she had chosen as her target—though it was actually more southward than west from Veshari.

Julia had heard that there was an enormous mountain range to the north called The Claws. There was also a passage through the range carved out by snowmelt flowing into the marsh. That river was called The Spine River, and it flowed south from a great glacial lake called the Lake of Memory.

Then there was Horseshoe Island in the middle of that lake, as well as The Teeth islands that broke up the tributary to The Spine River into smaller, individual rivers that joined the larger.

There was such interesting scenery that she would've loved to have visited. Unfortunately, the Nashiin blockade was thorough. They blocked even the northern edge of the marsh connecting to The Claws, as well as the passage through it.

Well, ending that blockade was her purpose here, so she'd better get to it.

She was now floating above the Nashiin camp in the swamp, probably somewhere close to a journey from the border. It looked much the same—no, exactly the same—as when she'd spied it a week ago. This was a good sign, as it could mean that information about where she was attacking hadn't leaked to the Nashiin.

She wasn't foolish enough to center her plans on a hope, though.

Julia hovered above the camp, taking careful aim. She cast a quick spell to mark the Barrowlord in the center's coordinates, and it began to stir. She hadn't cast the spell from such a distance, nor had she attempted to use it against enemies before, so the magic alerting the Barrowlord was not completely unexpected.

It was too late, regardless.

Julia did what she hadn't since her last conflict with the Wight and became crimson lightning. She shot out of the sky like the fury of a god, slamming into the ground and blasting a crater centered on the Barrowlord.

The ground heaved and buckled, undulating like a liquid close to the point of impact. A good portion of the Revenant guards were destroyed outright, their remaining dessicated flesh seared from their bones, and the bones themselves shredded from the heat, force, and displaced earth.

The Barrowlord was reduced to small piles of slag—all that had managed to remain after most of the undead was completely sublimated.

Julia reformed at the center of the crater, her armor glowing blue, the crimson lightning tracing across the chest a reminder of the destructive fury just unleashed on the Nashiin.

Just as she'd hoped, the Nashiin were slow to recover. The remaining Revenants—five of them—quickly got to their feet and formed up with each other, but the skeletons and Ghûls were disorganized and chaotic, with the skeletons ambling around like they didn't know what to do, and the Ghûls drooling and growling as they locked onto Julia.

The skeletons and Ghûls, although still dangerous, seemed to have reverted to their default behaviors—the Ghûls, slavering beasts driven by some insatiable, primal hunger; the skeletons, golem-like husks animated by some native programming.

Julia turned as the Revenants charged, their formation being essentially just five individual soldiers fighting at the same time—intimidating, but lacking the cohesion and unity of a trained squad.

Once they were just a stride from her, Julia stomped the ground, and the Revenants all fell to the ground, convulsing. The ground was an excellent conductor, after all. No need to do more than was necessary.

Counting the nearest of the remaining Nashiin and deciding how many she could eliminate before things became risky, Julia had just enough time to register a spatial anomaly in her domain before a great mitt of darkness closed around her.

With her Mana-Fueled Perception already active, she had a single instant to activate her Mana Disruption and press it against the closing mitt.

The hand, made unmistakably of the Nashiin's Death Magic, was intensely more concentrated than she'd ever experienced. Her Disruption was enough to keep it from crushing her, but she felt as if she were pushing against a mountain that was trying to settle on top of her.

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"Well, late in coming though it was, the information did turn out useful," a voice sounding like the choking gurgles of a man with his throat cut gloated. "I told you this endeavor would bear fruit."

"Waste of time," a no-nonsense voice replied. It sounded like a lower pitched version of metal upon a sharpening wheel.

"You say that, and yet here we are—the rabbit caught in the snare," the first voice chuckled.

Julia was unable to even turn her head, so she couldn't see the portal, nor who was stepping out of it, but her domain told her all she needed to know: the Wight.

Her domain was pressing against his, though hers was more like a flickering candle, trying to stay lit in a mighty gale.

The hand threatening to crush her had a different flavor to its rot, so she assumed it must be the giant Barrowlord's doing. They appeared to move together, so it seemed a logical conclusion.

The Wight's aura also appeared…less controlled than the large Barrowlord's. It was ferocious, and she had no doubt it was even more potent, but it felt wild and untamed, as though it was a malevolent entity hitching a ride with the Wight more than him controlling it.

"The…Wight, and his stooge, I…presume?" Julia grunted, attempting to stall. Her exertion undercut her attempt at casualness, unfortunately.

"Gohlmer is the name, young lady. And this 'stooge' is the Thol'Morrak. He leads the Thol'Gurat, who lead the Marghul in turn. He answers only to me, and he's rather strict with order and ranks, so I would suggest addressing him appropriately—especially considering it is he you will soon be serving," Gohlmer—the Wight—explained confidently.

Julia was annoyed by his tone. He sounded like someone out for a stroll, despite his voice sounding like the death rattle of a victim with a cut throat.

She pressed against the Thol'Morrak's death grip with all she had, but it wouldn't budge. She suspected that she was only this successful because Gohlmer hadn't ordered him to press the attack. He wanted to gloat, probably. That was good; she could work with that.

"I suppose you must be rather miffed that I've killed five—no, six now—of your Barrowlords? I'm getting quite good at it," Julia said, managing to keep the exertion out of her voice this time.

Though she was speaking, her thoughts were directed toward the telepathic link between her and Trixy.

"One second, that's all I need, Trixy. Just a single second," she sent.

"Ah, yes, most impressive. Though, it's no great loss for us. We can always—" Gohlmer began, but he stopped as Trixy came rocketing out of the water just behind him.

"Ha…" he sighed, as though disappointed. "Surely you didn't think the same trick would work twice?"

Julia, looking through Trixy's eyes, could see him raise his staff. A gout of purple flames seared the air, approaching Trixy with unavoidable speed.

"I did not," Julia said with a grin.

Several things happened at once, though to Julia's Perception, each instant felt almost a lifetime.

Trixy flashed into a bolt of lighting and zipped back toward the marsh with speed only lightning could achieve—spirits not being beholden to laws such as conservation of momentum.

Where she had just been was a small, transparent crystal that the two Nashiin likely hadn't noticed in Trixy's paws initially. It continued on the path Trixy had initially been following: straight toward the Nashiin.

Had they had the chance, they might have noticed the tiny engravings on the surface of the crystal, now glowing faintly after Trixy passed a small amount of mana through them:

ᚱᛖᛚᛖᛊᛖ ᛖᚾᛖᚱᚷᛁ

Release energy

Both Gohlmer and the Thol'Morrak, recognizing a fragment of Etherium for what it was, immediately responded. They need not have seen the enchantment to know that Etherium was dangerous in any circumstance.

The great mitt of energy released Julia and shifted to intercept the crystal, while the purple flames shifted into a barrier that closed around the two. The fire seemed to harden, however impossible that seemed, and solidified into an almost transparent barrier.

Julia, not letting the opportunity go to waste, shifted her body back to its natural state: mana. She became just a streak of energy moving through the air, not quite as fast as lightning, but lightning couldn't go where she needed to.

"You let her go, damn you! Capture her!" Gohlmer screamed, and had he had any moisture left in his dusty body, Julia was sure he'd be spitting.

The mitt shifted once again, targeting Julia, but she was already gone. Her mana body slipped into one of the spatial cracks she had spied from above like water soaking into the ground.

The mitt closed over the crack, but it passed harmlessly through, as though the tear weren't there. In fact, the Thol'Morrak seemed unaware it was there at all. To both his and Gohlmer's eyes, Julia simply vanished—poofed out of the world as if she'd never existed.

They had little time to be perplexed, as the Etherium fragment did what the enchantment bid: it released its energy.

Back in Veshari, Seyatha stood on her personal balcony in Tirn'Aleya gazing out over the marsh, and more specifically, toward where she knew Julia had gone.

This was what she would describe as her position's most troubling burden: sending other promising young warriors into danger, while she stayed back and waited. This was the burden of leadership, though, and she had plenty of time and experience to dull the emotional pain.

Still, she couldn't help worrying. It wasn't simply that Julia was The Watcher's treasured child, nor was it that Julia was a promising young warrior that had fought and bled for the marsh. She found herself so taken with Julia because at every opportunity, she'd made the worst decisions possible.

When she saw the Thornalûn being attacked, instead of using the distraction to her advantage and slipping away, she jumped into the fray.

When she arrived in Veshari, she could have stayed. She could have trained with the Zal'Nadir, she could have lived leisurely with her new friends, and she could have forgotten about the Nashiin—for a while, at least. But she didn't. She sought out opportunities to help, to fight.

She could have left Veshari any time she wanted. Seyatha knew without a shadow of a doubt that Julia could fly over the blockade with ease. She could go wherever she wanted, see whatever she wanted. There was no reason to continue putting herself in danger for people she hardly knew—but she didn't.

As Seyatha watched, a light so bright that it threatened even the noonday sun's brightness bloomed far off in the distance. A column of pure, white light ascended into the sky, like the world signalling the birth of a nascent divine.

And as she watched, a smile crept across her lips.

"That stupid, brave girl," she said quietly, the grin blossoming into a wide smile.

Sometimes it took a stupidly brave young person to remind the old and wizened why life was worth living—why it was worth fighting for.